


Unexpected Gifts

by misbegotten



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-02
Updated: 2010-04-02
Packaged: 2017-10-08 15:21:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/77013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misbegotten/pseuds/misbegotten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam gets an unexpected birthday gift from Gabriel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected Gifts

**Author's Note:**

> For jessebee, on the occasion of her birthday. Thanks to jenab for the awesome beta.

It's Sam's birthday and Gabriel is folding time, a process as delicate as gossamer. It is something that takes a lot of Grace, which is why he prefers time loops -- they're much easier to maintain, and generally don't come with the mind-numbing headaches involved in sticking to Dad's ineffable plan while tweaking things just right.

He's just about got things where he wants them when he hears Sam call out for him. _Gabriel!_ The cry is piercing through the ether, but as much as Gabriel wants to zap himself there in an instant Castiel's symbols on the brothers' bones keep him from zeroing in on Sam's location. He mutters in frustration over well-meaning seraphs and flips open his cell phone to dial Sam's number. It rings without answer, but Gabriel has already followed the digital currents and satellite bounces to Sam.

Sam's taken a heck of a beating, and the demons holding him are bent on more than just feeding him demon blood if the altar and symbols are any indication. Gabriel zaps through the room furiously, exorcising demons with his touch, but in the back of his head he's translating signs and reading the amount of blood that's already been spilled and _fuck_, this isn't going to be pretty.

The demons are gone almost as an afterthought, but even Sam in his dazed state can feel the build up of magic in the room. It's heavy in the air, like the foreshadowing of a storm. Gabriel unties Sam from the altar and helps him slither down onto the floor, where Sam draws in a pained breath. "Any chance of getting out of here?" he mumbles through a swollen lip.

Gabriel kisses the lip better, just because he can. "This magic is strongest on the day of your birth. We're not going anywhere, ace."

"Shit. I'm sorry I called you."

"Don't ever be sorry." Gabriel puts a hand on Sam's chest and stops the bleeding there. He traces a finger over Sam's forehead, undoing an ugly purple bruise. "We've got a problem."

Sam nods. "Binding spell," he says. "They thought maybe they could cut out the middle man and go straight to a yes that way."

Gabriel curses creative demons, and himself for not thinking of the possibility on today of all days. Well, he's always been best working by the seat of his pants, anyway. "I can fix it, sort of."

Sam raises an eyebrow. "Sort of?"

Gabriel licks a finger and raises it, tasting the spell in the air. "I can't turn it off, but I can channel it into something else."

Sam puts a hand on Gabriel's shoulder. "Can we just ride it out? I don't mind… " Sam swallows. "Being bound to you wouldn't be so bad, right?"

"Being bound to anybody would be bad," Gabriel says flatly. "Imagine giving up all your free will. Even in the hands of someone who has your best interests at heart, it would be beyond dangerous." He sighs. "You being bound to me would be the worst. If something happened to me, you'd be wide open to Lucifer in ways you can't imagine."

Sam's eyes widen slightly. They haven't talked about the consequences of Gabriel's decision to team up with the Winchesters. It doesn't mean that Gabriel hasn't considered the possibilities. There's going to be no clear winner in a test of archangel versus archangel.

Gabriel pulls Sam up and leaves him propped on the edge of the altar. He conjures a knife and cuts a thin line on his arm, letting the blood well up so he can paint additional symbols over the circle around them. "I can make this a claiming spell instead. I can claim you as mine, if you consent."

"What does that mean?" Sam asks. "What would it do to you?"

And there's part of what Gabriel loves about Sam -- curiosity mixed with compassion for others. Gabriel smirks. "Don't worry about me," he scoffs. "Worry about you. Being claimed by an archangel is intense." Gabriel stands back to survey his work, and cleans up his wound when he decides he has added enough to the spell. "On the plus side," he says brightly, making it a joke, "I'll be able to find you even if you don't have your cell phone on you."

"What else?" Sam asks. His voice is louder now as the air in the room picks up, swirling like a sudden breeze.

"You'll be mine, Sam." Gabriel tries to come up with the words to explain it quickly, and fails. "I'll be able to feel what you feel. If our connection is strong, we might even be able to read each other's thoughts. You'll be tied to me for the rest of your life." He smirks. "We'll want each other. A lot."

Sam laughs. "Already got that covered," he points out, but Gabriel grabs his shoulder and pulls him close.

"I'm not kidding Sam. It's going to be unlike anything you've ever experienced. You loved Jess? You love Dean? This is stronger. It comes with perks -- it's more of a two-way street than binding -- but believe me when I say that you'll be _mine_."

Sam takes Gabriel's hand from his shoulder and threads his fingers through Gabriel's. "I consent."

The room _shakes_ around them, as Gabriel crushes his lips to Sam's. His intent is a slow exploration of Sam's mouth, but the magic of the circle pushes in on them and Gabriel finds himself ravaging Sam's lips, teeth and tongues tangling. He presses down with his fingers, running them up from the back of Sam's neck to his ridiculously floppy hair. Winding the long strands of hair in his hand, he yanks Sam's head back and attacks his jaw, licking and sucking at the pulse point, working his way down the soft flesh of his neck to his collarbone. Sam makes a sound deep in his throat, and wraps his hands into Gabriel's jacket, tugging.

Gabriel collects himself long enough to snap his fingers and their clothes disappear. His cock is already jutting hard between them, but Gabriel feels like fighting the magic. He takes the time to explore Sam's chest, familiar territory but well-loved. He sucks on one nipple, laving the skin below it. Sam's ribs are too prominent for Gabriel's liking, and he makes a mental note to fatten him up. His stomach is flat, tapering down to the groin, and Gabriel licks a path leading to Sam's cock. He takes it into his mouth, and Sam groans, leaning back onto the altar and hitching Gabriel up with him.

Gabriel works Sam's cock with his tongue, licking and swirling, teasing the head. He pumps the shaft, strong and firm beneath his grasp, and conjures some fragrant oil -- far more old school than lube, and better suited to the ceremony they're undertaking. He puts some on his palm and continues pumping, listening for the catch in Sam's breathing as he finds just the right mix of friction and slick. With a smirk -- because even (especially, definitely) in these circumstances, sex with Sam is _fun_ \-- he sucks the head of Sam's cock, licking the slit and tasting Sam's precome. Sam is bucking up into his mouth and Gabriel lets him, releasing his hold on the shaft and urging Sam to fuck his mouth. Sam's hips are shaking beneath his grasp, his legs trembling, and then he's coming into Gabriel's mouth, the archangel's name torn from his lips.

Gabriel ignores the pressure of the spell as best he can and lets Sam come down from his high, but it's hard when Sam's stretched out on the altar in a decadent do me now pose. Gabriel hasn't been this turned on since his days as a demigod, and he didn't even lov-- have feelings for his offerings then. Gently, Gabriel dips his hand into the oil and circles the sensitive skin at Sam's ass. Sam makes a garbled sound that Gabriel takes as a sign to go ahead, and he pushes a finger in up to the knuckle. Sam is open wide for him, and Gabriel twists in more just right, tweaking Sam's prostate. As Sam groans, Gabriel puts in another finger, then a third, sliding in and out with practiced ease as Sam writhes and clenches beneath him.

The spell is hovering now, biting the air and trying to tear at them, and Gabriel's hands are shaking as he slathers oil over his erection. "Tell me again," Gabriel says in Sam's ear, over the din of the storm brewing around them. "Tell me you mean it."

"I consent," Sam says, understanding instantly. He puts his hand on Gabriel's cheek, his eyes meeting Gabriel's. "I want this."

Gabriel groans this time, and the binding of the spell pushes him into Sam as neatly as a puzzle piece. They're interlocked, and their coming together releases something in the magic that flies through them both, a hot, steady heat to accompany the elemental push and pull of their joining. Gabriel's hands go to Sam's hips, lifting his legs higher to push deeper and faster, and Sam's hands are white against the altar as he bears down. Gabriel can feel his orgasm building from his toes, up his legs, along his long-hidden wings, up through his skin to the crown of his head. It bursts out like a wash of energy, a blinding swirl of power. He prays for the first time in a long time that Sam will survive, that he hasn't fucked up the spell, that it will work because _he wants it to work_.

When the light fades, the signs are unmistakable -- two handprints, one on each hip of Sam's flesh. Gabriel pants, feeling the energy of the spell fading. He's wondering if he's just done the stupidest thing possible, and panicking slightly as Sam lies still beneath him. "Sam?" he manages.

Sam waves a hand negligently. "Here," he says faintly. He gulps, taking in a huge rush of air, and sits up on his elbows to meet Gabriel's gaze. "Heck of a birthday present," he says with a crooked smile.

Gabriel chuckles. He checks the air for any remnants of the spell and then snaps his fingers, transporting them from the room to a safehouse of Gabriel's creation. They've been here before, and Sam relaxes into the soft down of the comforter Gabriel produces.

"So was it necessary to give me two brands?" Sam says idly, his fingers running over one of the handprints.

"Hey, I was just trying to hang on," Gabriel says defensively, but the lilt on Sam's mouth reassures him. "You're lucky you're in one piece."

"Thanks for waiting to tell me that afterwards." Sam yawns. "Dean know where we are?"

Gabriel thinks a message to Castiel and then nods. "Castiel knows. How do you feel?"

Sam has burrowed into the comforter, creating a cocoon. "Fine. Tired. How am I supposed to feel?"

"I'm not sure," Gabriel admits. "No one's been claimed by an archangel in a long time. There's not exactly a support group."

"So are we going to have to stay within fifty feet of each at all times? Start finishing each other's sentences? Wear the same outfits?"

Gabriel tries not to laugh. Really. "If I said yes, would you do it? Because I'm pretty sure all three of those would drive your brother insane."

Sam's eyes, which had been drifting downward, pop open. "The marks. Wait a minute, is Castiel's mark on Dean a claim?"

Gabriel really doesn't want to get into the specifics of his little brother's attachment to the elder Winchester. "Sort of," he says vaguely. "Let's stick to the point. I don't know exactly what to expect from this. You're not the most human human, and I'm an archangel. We're into new territory here."

Sam lays his hand on Gabriel's arm. "Does this mean I can't be Lucifer's vessel?"

Gabriel is quiet for a long time. "I think it might kill me if you were."

Sam considers this for a moment before he responds. "All the more reason for me to say no, then."

Gabriel crawls under the comforter next to Sam, tucking the blanket around them. "This is not what I planned to give you for your birthday," he complains.

Sam smiles into his chest. "Really? What were you going to get me? A cake?"

Gabriel puts his arm around Sam. "Something like that." He snaps his fingers and twenty years of history... _change_. Like dominoes, circumstances conspire every year on the same day to produce

… the motel owner who just happens to have a cake going to waste and wants to give it to the boys waiting for their dad to get back

… the cabin that has provisions including a cake mix and a can of frosting

… the grocery store employee who inexplicably doesn't notice when young Dean shoplifts an entire cake

… the waitress who gives Sam a special dessert

and years of other coincidences that suddenly populate Sam's mind, rewriting memories of birthdays gone unnoticed or uncelebrated.

"Happy birthday, Sammy," Gabriel says softly. "And many more."

"You are --" Sam laughs. "Incredible." He pulls Gabriel to him in a kiss that somehow seems… well, just _more_ than ever before.

Gabriel considers, again, whether he's done the stupidest thing possible in binding Sam Winchester to him. It might be the death of him. Of them both.

Or it could be the answer to their prayers.


End file.
